His Mother's Son
by hjea
Summary: Takes place about 5 years in a future where Holtz didn't kidnap baby Connor.


His Mother's Son  
  
Angel was sitting in his chair, just looking at the closed curtain, when he heard the familiar sound of feet running down the hall. He turned around just as the little boy burst through the door.  
  
"Hi Daddy".  
  
Angel smiled, "Hey Connor, how was school today?"  
  
"Good", his son replied, "Mrs. Norton let me play with the big blocks." Connor grinned, "And Trevor let me borrow his truck."  
  
He proudly displayed the plastic toy for his Dad to see, then promptly dropped on the floor and started pushing it around.  
  
Angel watched his son play awhile.  
  
"So did Cordy pick you up?"  
  
"Yup," The five-year-old answered shortly, still absorbed in digging a mine with the new toy.  
  
Shortly afterward, Cordelia poked her head in the door, smiling at the two.  
  
"I'm gonna go home now, 'kay Angel."  
  
"Yeah sure, thanks for picking up Connor", Angel said to his friend.  
  
"Hey anytime, you know he's my number one guy."  
  
She dropped down to the little boy's level, "I'll see you tomorrow, buddy."  
  
Connor stopped playing and ran over to plant a kiss on Cordy's cheek. The young woman looked at him in surprise,  
  
"What was that for?"  
  
Connor looked thoughtful for a moment; "I like you."  
  
Cordelia smiled, "Well I like you too."  
  
She stood up, brushed off her pants, and went to the door.  
  
"Bye Angel", she said as she left.  
  
Connor played with his truck for awhile, as his father watched, occasionally adding in a few comments on the art of hole digging. Suddenly the little boy stopped, and went over to his father's chair.  
  
"Daddy," he started curiously, "Why don't I have a Mommy?"  
  
Angel blinked in surprise, he wasn't expecting that. Turning his full attention to his son, he gave him a questioning look,  
  
"Why are you asking that?"  
  
"Well," the kindergartner started seriously,  
  
"Most of kids in my class have Mommy's picking them up, and some of them asked if Cordy was my Mom, but I told them she wasn't. And then they asked where my Mommy is, but I don't know, so," he took a big breath, "why don't have a Mommy?"  
  
Angel furrowed his brow, and lifted Connor onto his lap.  
  
"Son," he started, resigned to telling him the truth. "You did have a Mommy."  
  
"Then where is she?" He asked simply.  
  
"Well, she...died when you were born."  
  
Connor dropped his head sadly,  
  
"Oh."  
  
Angel dropped his hand gently on the blond head, sad that he couldn't give him something better. Suddenly the little boy looked up again.  
  
"What was her name?"  
  
A smile tugged its way onto Angel's lips; "Her name was Darla."  
  
"Darla." Connor repeated, trying out the taste of it. "I like it."  
  
His Dad nodded, "Yeah, I liked it too."  
  
"Do you have a photo of her?"  
  
Angel shook his head. "Sorry Connor, I don't think she ever had her picture taken."  
  
The five-year-old scrunched up his nose disappointedly.  
  
"I'll tell you what though," Angel said, trying to cheer his son up, "I'll draw you a picture of her."  
  
Connor noticeably brightened up,  
  
" Okay," he said excitedly, hopping off of Angel's lap; he knew what a good drawer his Father was.  
  
Angel stood up and walked over to his desk, Connor trailing behind him. He sat down, grabbed a piece of paper, and tried to recall Darla's face to his memory.  
  
It wasn't hard, she was always lingering on the surface of his mind. Quickly he began sketching, as Connor leaned patiently against the side of the desk. Satisfied that his work was accurate, he turned it around so the little boy could see.  
  
Mouth opened in awe, Connor gently touched the drawing of her face.  
  
"She's beautiful." He whispered.  
  
Angel shook his head a little and smiled, yet another lad who had succumbed to Darla's charms.  
  
"Yeah." He answered back.  
  
Glancing again at his son's face, he blinked in surprise. People always stated how much Connor looked like his Father, except for the pale blond hair covering his head, but looking again at the boy and the picture of his mother, there was no mistaking Darla's eyes looking up from behind Connor's dark lashes.  
  
"Dad," Connor asked, shaking Angel out from his thoughtful stupor, "Can you draw me a picture of when she was most beautiful?"  
  
Looking a little surprised at his son's strange request, but complying nonetheless, Angel called to mind all the times he had been with Darla.  
  
Darla had always made a point of trying to look her best, and to Angel, soulless or not, she had always accomplished it with flying colours, but to try to imagine one instance...Many images flashed through his head, some very not appropriate for his pre-grade school son.  
  
Suddenly the night on top of a hotel came to his mind. Sketching with quick sure strokes, he presented the finished drawing to the waiting child.  
  
Connor examined it scrutinizingly.  
  
"She's fat."  
  
Angel chuckled, "Not exactly."  
  
He pointed to the roundness of Darla's stomach in the picture. "That's you."  
  
Connor opened his eyes wide, "Really?" He asked with interest,  
  
"But why is she most beautiful to you here?"  
  
Angel turned in his chair, and sank down so he was eye level with his son.  
  
"She's most beautiful to me here, because this is when she realized how much she loved you."  
  
Connor smiled widely, "She loved me?"  
  
"More than I ever thought possible, just as much as I love you."  
  
The little boy nodded, just as if everything in the world was going to be okay. "Good. I love you too."  
  
Angel smiled, and dropped a kiss on the top of his son's head.  
  
"Shall we go see if Wes needs help downstairs?"  
  
Connor nodded, "I'm hungry, let's go."  
  
Angel grinned at the boy as he swung Connor unto his shoulders, "We're off."  
  
Closing the door behind them, Angel shook his shoulders causing Connor to burst into giggles.  
  
"I like it up here," he stated simply, "There's a good view."  
  
Angel shook his head; he really was his Mother's son. Galloping down the hall, Father and son got ready for a day of saving the world, and getting a snack. 


End file.
